


The Books That Don't Belong

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Jewish life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is sent to stop a crime, but he's not sure he should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Books That Don't Belong

"Hey, Neal." Peter stopped by Neal's desk.  
  
Neal looked up blearily from the forms he was filling in. They'd been on an all-night stakeout and now he was tasked with preparing his reports. Life was unfair. He couldn't understand how Peter was still so chipper after several hours of this drudgery.  
  
Peter smiled at his CI. "We got a ping on one of your Steve Tabernackle email accounts."  
  
"You read my emails?" Neal asked.  
  
"Always." Peter put down a printed sheet of paper in front of Neal.  
  
Neal glanced at it. It was quite short, requesting a meet regarding a possible job.  
  
"Doesn't say what they want. Did you trace it?"  
  
"It came from a public library here in New York." Peter shrugged. It wasn't much to go on.  
  
"Hm." Neal squinted at the page.  
  
"Get back to them and see what they want," Peter said.  
  
Neal sighed, but at least it was a reprieve from triplicate form-filling.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
After an exchange of emails, the meet was set up - on the boardwalk in Brighton Beach.  
  
As instructed, Neal showed up with a newspaper in hand and sat on the third bench from the left. Somebody, he decided, was reading too many spy novels. Either that, or they've been keeping Mozzie company for too long.  
  
Not knowing who was going to show up, Peter was not taking any chances. The FBI were set up all around, with agents blending in (as much as agents could) with the tourists and day trippers out enjoying their day.  
  
"Nothing yet," Neal said to the agents listening in the van.  
  
Over his open paper, he scanned the boardwalk, but saw nobody suspicious.  
  
"Excuse me." A young woman stopped by his bench. "Is that the New York Times?"  
  
"It's the Ledger," Neal responded with the expected code-phrase. Whatever he was expecting, this wasn't it. She looked like any one of the other young people out enjoying their day - wearing jeans and a colorful t-shirt, her eyes obscured by large sunglasses. He estimated she was in her early twenties, and she seemed to be sizing him as much as he was sizing her.  
  
"Let's talk." The girl indicated they should continue walking. Neal folded up his paper and left it on the bench. He didn't check to see what the FBI agents were doing.  
  
In the van Peter lifted his walkie-talkie. "They're on the move. Team One, keep them in sight."  
  
They walked for a minute in silence before the girl spoke up. "I need you to help me get something. I was told you're the guy to do it."  
  
Neal had a lot of questions: Who was she?  How did she get his name? But instead he focused on the job at hand.  "I am. What's the target?"  
  
"The Museum of Jewish Heritage."  
  
It wasn't one of the museums Neal usually frequented. Or ever. "What are you after? Art? Judaica?"  
  
"Books." Neal shot her a glance, and she cleared her throat. "Next week, the museum's going to host an exhibition of books from Iraq." She paused, then added, "Stolen books."  
  
"And you want to steal them from the museum?"  
  
"Exactly. Before they'll be shipped to Iraq. I need you to help us get in there, and then deal with the security on the displays."  
  
"Us?" Neal blinked at her.  
  
"Can you do it?"  
  
"I'll have to check out the venue, make sure that's possible. If it is, you pay me fifty grand outright, and then 5% of the proceeds."  
  
"I'm not going to sell the books."  
  
Neal glared her down. "I don't care what you do with them, you want to hire me, that's my price."  
  
"Fine," she finally answered, "you'll get your money."  
  
"Good. So, I'll be in touch." Neal lifted a finger to his fedora in salute, and sauntered off.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Later, back in the Peter's office, Peter shook his head at his CI "Check out the venue? You're supposed to play along, not turn her down."  
  
"Oh, come on, Peter, she's hardly an hardened criminal. She's just a kid."  
  
"Just a kid," Peter repeated. "I know somebody who launched a career as a master forger when he was barely eighteen. Led me on a three year chase through five continents."  
  
Neal rolled his eyes.  
  
"Besides," the FBI agent continued, "she might be a front man for a criminal gang."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"Look, we know she's working with somebody else. You turn them down, they'll find somebody else to do it, you realize that."  
  
"Or they might decide it's not worth the hassle."  
  
Peter glanced at his screen, and then pressed a few keys. "Oh, here we go. Linda Dabah."  
  
Neal raised an eyebrow. He had figured her for a normal kid, not one with a criminal record. "She's in the FBI database?"  
  
"Google image search," Peter clarified.  
  
Neal came round the desk to see.  
  
Peter continued googling. "And here's what they're after."  
  
"The Iraqi Jewish archive." It was a stash of thousands of books and documents stolen from the Jewish community over the years. Discovered during the war, it was brought to the US for repairs over a decade ago. The US government was now about to transfer it back to the Iraqis, and so the archive was doing a 'farewell trip' around the country and was coming to New York for a couple of months.  
  
"Well," Neal continued, "if Steve Tabernackle is expected to plan this heist, he'll need to stop at this Jewish museum, see what's the setup there."  
  
"It's down in Battery Park. We can visit together on Sunday, El said she wanted to go someplace new."  
  
"You don't trust me to go alone?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Neal sighed, then returned back to the topic at hand. "Where is she getting fifty grand from?"  
  
Peter considered that. "I'll pull her account info."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
A couple of days later, Neal met with Linda again, this time at the local library.  
  
They sat in a quiet corner, where nobody could overhear them (except the FBI, who were listening in via Neal's watch). Neal had brought blueprints of the museum, which he spread out on the table. "How many people are in on this?"  
  
She shrugged. "Four, five."  
  
"Friends of yours?" he tried probing.  
  
"Why does it matter?"  
  
"Because we really should meet before D-Day, make sure everybody knows what's their part of the plan."  
  
She caught his glance. "Right now you're meeting with me."  
  
Neal nodded. He didn't buy this whole tough-girl act, but he couldn't do much about it. "Okay. Look, I looked up this exhibit. Most of those books aren't worth much." According to Peter, after her meeting with Neal, Linda had taken out a loan for ten thousand dollars. Neal couldn't see how she was going to repay it with this heist.  
  
"This isn't about the money. Those books are ours."  
  
"You're from Iraq?"  
  
"I'm Halabi, from Syria. But that's not the point. If you came across a stash like this that was saved from the Nazis, who would you return it to, the Germans or the Jews?"  
  
Neal remained silent. What _he'd_ do would be to sell it off and buy himself a private island.  
  
Luckily for him, she wasn't really expecting an answer. "This is our heritage, and it's being given away to the Iraqis, the same people who persecuted us and decimated the community there."  
  
"And you think you're going to make it right by stealing them?"  
  
This question was met with surprise, and Neal noted to himself that he might have to dial it down. He was supposedly (allegedly) a thief, after all. "I mean, you seem like a good kid. Robbing a museum is serious business, and it could land you in a whole lot of trouble."  
  
"Those books belong to the Iraqi Jews.  You ever hear of Judy Feld Carr?" Linda asked him.  
  
Neal shook his head.  
  
"She was this Canadian lady who saved thousands of Syrian Jews, and ancient books too. Smuggled them out one by one.  Sometimes you can't stand by, you know?"  She straightened her gaze at him. "I'm willing to take the risk."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
When the big day finally arrived, the day they planned to hit the museum, Neal couldn't get himself to feel the usual rush of excitement. He sat at his desk, staring off. His thoughts far, far away.  
  
Peter stopped by his desk. "You're ready for the takedown tonight?"  
  
Neal shifted his attention to his handler. "You're going to arrest them?"  
  
"If they're going to go ahead with this heist, then yes."  
  
"This is not justice."  
  
"It's the law," Peter countered. "Look, it's easy to empathize with these kids. Believe me, I feel for them, but the US promised the Iraqis they're going to get their books back. Otherwise, these books wouldn't have even made it here in the first place."  
  
"No... they would have stayed hidden away in some dank basement. We should be helping them, not stopping them."  
  
Peter sighed. "We do that, we could set the whole Middle East on fire. What they're doing is wrong. You don't solve problems by committing crimes."  
  
Neal just shook his head.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Peter had procured a van for the operation. Neal had picked up the group - four kids who were all very obviously about to commit their first felony - and now parked the van behind the museum. He turned to the kids next to him. They were all dressed in thief-black. "It's not too late to back down."  
  
"We're not backing down," Linda replied, still the spokesperson for the group.  
  
Neal realized Peter was probably having a fit just about now.  The FBI van was parked around the corner.  "Because, you know, if they catch you, you'll be going to jail for a long, long time."  
  
"Why? Do you think they're on to us?"  
  
The FBI van, listening in on the conversation, held its collective breath.  
  
Neal hesitated. "How would I know?"  
  
That seemed to satisfy Linda.  "If we got to jail... well, you know how the saying goes, it's not up to us to finish the job."  
  
That made Neal pause. "Is there somebody else who's about to?"  
  
"In the 1970s," Linda explaied, "there was a group of Soviet Jews who planned to abduct a plane and fly to freedom. They knew there was a good chance they'll get caught, but they did it anyway."  
  
"And?"  
  
"They got caught. But they sparked off an entire movement, because people realized this was important. Even if we get caught, it would be worth it."  
  
"You're sure?" Neal asked, surprised.  
  
The group nodded.  
  
Neal took a deep breath. "Then let's go."

**Author's Note:**

> The [Iraqi Jewish Archive](http://www.ija.archives.gov/) will be handed over to the Iraqi authorities in the next few years.


End file.
